THEATER: KROTZ'S 'MICHI'S BLOOD'

By FRANK RICH

Published: September 10, 1982

Correction Appended

CARL and Mary, the young lovers of Franz Xaver Kroetz's ''Michi's Blood,'' live in a flat that is perhaps less appetizing than a public restroom in a subway. The walls are streaked with grime; the one window looks out on an air shaft; the tub is as filthy as a pig trough. Decoration consists of some crumpled cigarette packages taped above a sooty cot. For lighting, there are two bare light bulbs.

This setting, designed by Liz Mestres, is a suitable arena for the action that occurs in Mr. Kroetz's hourlong play. ''Michi's Blood'' opens with the spectacle of Carl beating Mary - by dragging her across the room by her hair, by slamming her face on a linoleum table, by slugging her in the bathroom across the hall. After that comes some rough sex, soon to be followed by a home-style abortion and an onstage act of necrophilia. In the blackouts that separate the brief scenes, we hear the sound of shattering glass.

A painful evening? Heavens, yes -and theatergoers with weak stomachs should stand warned. Yet ''Michi's Blood,'' which is now receiving its New York premiere at the Taller Latinoamericano in Chelsea, is the work of a playwright whose singular vision cannot be ignored. Mr. Kroetz, a leading figure in Germany's avant-garde, is a chronicler of the modern industrial state's lowest, least articulate underclass, and he writes about these people with a spare, if violent, realism that is microscopic in its intimacy.

''Michi's Blood'' is not a superior Kroetz play, but those who missed the stunning New York production of his ''Request Concert'' two seasons ago will find it a good introduction to his striking style. ''Request Concert,'' an account of a working woman's lonely domestic rituals, had no dialogue; ''Michi's Blood,'' here in Michael Roloff's English version, has very little. Most of what there is consists of expletives, grunts and sentence fragments. Character development and conventional cause-and-effect plot do not exist in Mr. Kroetz's theater.

The ambience the author creates is a far cry from the sentimental melodrama of the usual naturalistic kitchen-sink play. He abruptly shoves the audience into the unexplicated horror of his characters' airless lives and then, just when we're about to suffocate, yanks us back out again. One feels a certain amount of pity and terror, but no purgation. There is nothing to be done for his characters, Mr. Kroetz seems to imply, short of setting fire to the world and rebuilding it from scratch. Carl and Mary believe that ''you're best off if you ain't born''; they ''know nothing about nothing.'' But if they're beyond the reach of either culture or salvation, neither are they beasts. ''An animal can't put up a fight when he don't like something,'' says Mary, who for a while persists in clawing at her cage.

''Michi's Blood'' is at its weakest when Mr. Kroetz goes in for some uncharacteristic point-making, by force-feeding his heroine such Beckett-isms as ''I want nothing but a little happiness'' or ''One should never lose hope.'' The modest production, vigorously directed by Mark Lutwak, is more than acceptable. While Y York's Mary (Michi in the German text) indulges in odd, actressy speech patterns that are anathema to the play, Christopher McCann is ideally cast as Carl: his monotonous voice and forgettable face could not be more anonymous. Even in drunken rage he remains a protozoan slug, flushed helplessly through the sewer that Mr. Kroetz calls life. The Underclass MICHI'S BLOOD, by Franz Xaver Kroetz; Eng- lish version by Michael Roloff; directed by Mark Lutwak; stage manager, David Sewelson; de- signer, Liz Mestres; sound and music composed by Wayne Horvitz; piano music composed by Robin Holcomb; graphics, Jenny Pearce. Pre- sented by Creation and Taller Latinoamericano. At 19 West 21st Street, second floor.Carl ...............................Christopher McCann Mary ...........................................Y York